


Don't Forget

by Mistress_of_Undertail



Series: L O V E [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Canon Relationships, Cause what the hell XD, Drama, F/F, F/M, Fontcest, Incest, M/M, Multi, My First Public Sin, My First Romance Fic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Papyrus is a virgin, Retcon of popular Underfell, Romance, Romantic Underfell, Sans and Grillby are fuckbuddies, Sans is kinda a whore, Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Story with some Smut, Underfell, Will add tags when relevant, Will get REALLY dark later, basically this fic is for people who ship fontcest, but don't mind sans banging 2 other major characters, but trust me it will be, but trust me when I say the only one that matters will be fontcest, cause I was REALLY craving it, for a brief time anyways, it doesn't even look like a fontcest fic, just bare with me XD, like seriously, long fic, sansby - Freeform, this will include other pairings, you'll see!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6654163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistress_of_Undertail/pseuds/Mistress_of_Undertail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For as long as he could remember, Sans - orphan and former dump rat - wielded powers unequaled in the Underground. But his strength was a curse. As more opponents turned to dust at his hands, the more the light in his eyes faded. Kill or be killed. There was always a choice, right?</p><p>But his younger brother, Papyrus, refused to allow Sans to even consider it. Determined to get himself and his brother the life they truly deserved, Papyrus willingly tossed away his innocence and vowed to become the most dangerous monster that walked in the Underground.</p><p>Yet Papyrus had a secret. A deep secret that could doom them both. A secret he desperately tried to ignore his entire life.</p><p>A secret that a talking golden flower unearthed…and urged him to explore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Childhood #1 "WEAK"

**Author's Note:**

> ~Childhood ##~ = a small chapter set in the skelebros past. Their ages will be within the chapter, but if I forget, just assume they are under the age of 18 in each one. They are not in chronological order.
> 
> ~s~ = smut scene. This symbol will appear before each smut scene. So if for some reason you're only interested in the plot, feel free to skip them.
> 
> You can skip smut scenes if you wish, but you might miss out on some plot/character development details. I do recommend checking the end, ONLY if you don't have any major triggers.
> 
> If you are confused about anything, please ask in the comments. I have left things a bit vague and my version of Underfell has some differences. I'll try to make the major ones as clear as possible in the story, but if I've failed to have done so, do not hesitate to ask in the comments.
> 
> If something is confusing, please check the comments to see if maybe someone else has asked the same question and I've answered already there.
> 
> Actually ANY kind of feedback in comments will be IMMENSELY appreciated. I love comments :}.
> 
> Any other questions or positive/constructive feedback (you know what I'm talking about :p), feel free to message me at [my tumblr](http://psycho4sans.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I spent a lot of time planning this fic and I'm so excited! Please enjoy!

 

 

~Childhood #1~  
"Weak"

* * *

 

It was very early. Judging by the dew that covered everything, it must have been around dawn. Sans silently sat up. The patched tent he and his brother had called home for over two years now was quiet, the only sound coming from Papyrus's gentle breathing, still deep asleep. It had taken forever. Sans had long since noticed that the nine-year-old sometimes faked-slept so as not to bother him. He had to watch his breathing to be absolutely sure he really was passed out. Hell, Sans almost fell asleep himself while waiting...again.

But he was determined. As quietly as he could, Sans made sure the pack with all the extra food and supplies he had gathered secretly hadn't been invaded by mice during the night. Nope, they were safe. Inside was probably enough food for the two of them for only a few days. But for just one of them, it would be plenty. At least for a week or two. More than enough time for his brother to find more. Papyrus was smart and resilient, even more than he was at his age. He'd be fine. Sans was sure of it.

To be as quiet as possible, Sans teleported out of the tent. He took nothing with him. Just the clothes on his back. He stood, giving the tent one last look and for a second his resolve wavered...

...but only for a second.

Pulling his tattered, blue jacket tightly around his bones, Sans turned and walked down the hill of trash they lived on for --what he hoped -- would be the last time.

~~~

The dump was a great place for many. Scavengers, misfits, outcasts, and even orphans like him. There was plenty of food if you weren't picky, plenty of entertainment if you know where to look, and plenty of nooks and crannies to hide from larger, stronger monsters. However, it wasn't perfect. This world was kill or be killed after all. A reality Sans knew all too well.

He walked along the mounds of trash, flies and other insects buzzing loudly about. Despite the early hour, there were monsters still roaming the area, hoping to get that morning's haul first. Still, Sans worried he was too early. Most of the homeless out scavenging at this hour were much older, bent over with age and covered, it seemed like, with every single scrap of clothing they've accumulated in their lifetime. He ignored them, knowing they were harmless. And even if they weren't, that wouldn't have bothered him either. Not today anyways.

But he was lucky, or perhaps when you have nowhere to go, there just didn't seem like any point to sleeping in. It wasn't like any of them had a warm, dry, comfy bed that would keep them from ever wanting to get up. Nah, most of the time it was cold and so unprotected you'd be afraid of dying from exposure, or so claustrophobic that it felt like a coffin. Either way it was no fun.

Regardless of the reason, it didn't take long for Sans to find the three burly teenagers. One was a dragon, his scaly face covered in flaking scales and rashes from some kind of disease. Another downside to living and eating at the dump. The other was a bear monster, so skinny, her clothes were just hanging off her. Or maybe they were just too big. You couldn't be too picky when it came to fashion out here. But still, her frame loomed over his by a good foot or two.

The third was a rabbit with a missing ear and a scarred cheek. It was obvious that he was the leader, the one who protected the other two for the most part. He even somehow found a black leather jacket to finish the look. So cliché. But his face alone would have scared off most threats, which was probably why the other two stuck with him. Sans recognized him as one of the older boys of Patricia, the owner of the Inn in Snowdin. The cranky old hag had more kids than food to feed them with. So it wasn't unusual to see one or two of her brats running about the Dump. In fact, there had been one more yesterday. A dirty, tiny ball of fluff. A stupid little runt.

Right now the small group was sharing a few crabapples they probably stole from old man Gerson's. Either that or they fished them out of the trash. They were only a handful of years older than he was. Larger, stronger, but still not a match for him.

Hell, at twelve years old, Sans had yet to find a monster that he couldn't handle.

"Hey, losers!" his grin turned into a smirk, the lights of his eyes vanishing. "Remember me?!"

The three turned in unison. The bear and dragon's eyes went wide with...no, not just fear, but a paralyzing terror. Sans could feel the trembling of their souls, the irises of their eyes restricting to tiny dots. Funny, he thought only he and his brother could do that. Interesting.

Not the bunny, though. Nope. His face was the opposite of fear.

"That look on your face..." Sans said, smirking, the irises of his eyes popping back into place. "..."

He looked back at the scowling rabbit, the hatred and anger in his soul so strong, shards of magic flung in Sans direction, probably unintentionally. He was out of reach, the magic cutting into the soggy trash inches from his toes before shattering into pieces.

"...well, let's just say you look 'crabby' to see me," Sans said with a smirk. His irises flickered off again, leaving his eyes sockets empty black holes. "Guess I deserve that. My bad."

Yesterday, Papyrus caught them rummaging in their tent for food, probably, and being the stubborn kid he was, he jumped in to stop them. Sans found them all moments later with Papyrus face down in the mud. His brother was surrounded, his skull under the pressure of their leader's crushing boot.

There had been four of them that attacked that day.

Today, they were just three.

The bear and the dragon grabbed at the back of their leader's jacket, trying to pull him back. They seemed really eager to run away, trembling with fear.

Yeah. He really earned that fear, didn't he?

"What? You leaving already? I thought maybe you'd want a rematch," Sans said, keeping a mocking tone, digging his hands into his pockets. "Come on. I know you want it. You want revenge, don't ya? Well, here it is. Come get me."

"Don't!" the bear whispered harshly when the rabbit took a step forward. "It's a trap!"

"I don't care if it is!!!" The leather-clad bunny shrugged them both off and charged forward, eyes livid. "I'm going to tear him apart!!"

Sans smirked and pulled one hand free. A few blue bones popped out from the ground. "I guess you can say...that you're really dying to get a piece of me."

Bleh. That had been too heavy handed. The teen rabbit skidded to a halt, just a few inches out of range. Not Sans' range mind you. He could've blasted him to next week ages ago. But that wasn't the point of this.

It never was.

"What? You scared? That's fine. I didn't want to get dust all over my sneakers again anyways." Sans' grin widened. "It was such a pain cleaning them the first time. I hope that little kid liked old toothbrushes, cause damn—"

That did it. A blind rage took over the young rabbit and he charged ahead with a yell, magic already being flung at Sans, shattering the flimsy blue bones he had erected. The leader's fury and intent made his attacks much stronger than yesterday and that was just fine.

Hell, even half of this power was enough. A secret no one in the Underground knew. Not yet anyways.

Sans raised his hand again and the other teens cowered away, unable to look. The teen rabbit was too enraged to care, several long spikes of magic materializing in the air, perhaps in an attempt to beat him to the punch.

But Sans didn't summon any magic, never intended to. It was just to get the stupid bunny to hurry up.  
He was tired. And that kid...he had to have been younger than Papyrus. A stupid little kid with not enough HP. Not enough for even a single 1 DMG attack. Just like him.

It was kill or be killed.

But that was just it. Sans realized the truth yesterday as that tiny ball of fluff, barely old enough to know how to tie his own shoes, turned to dust finer than ash. A fact that everyone in the Underground usually forgot.

Kill or _be killed_.

There was always a choice.

Sans lowered his hand and shut his eyes as the spikes were launched. His soul was still, calm.

He was ready.

"NO!"

Sans' eyes snapped open. That voice!

Before he could register what was happening, he felt a sharp kick at the back of his knees. They gave way easily and he sunk to the ground just in time. The magic attack intended for him soared over his head and hit whoever was behind him with a loud shattering sound.

"UGH!"

Sans spun around, eyes wide and horrified. Papyrus was laying across the ground, his clothes ripped and a large crack running down his face. He'd been hit so hard, he was barely conscious, groaning.

"Fuck..." the leader muttered when he saw what he'd done.

That made sense. Papyrus was barely older than the tiny brother he was trying to avenge. But none of that mattered anymore. Sans grit his teeth, turning to him with a burning blue eye. Above him, a giant skull started to materialize and no amount of anger in the world could withstand its burning gaze as its jaws slowly opened. Courage left the teen rabbit and he just ran away as fast as he could, tumbling down the mounds of trash. His friends joined him, clinging to each others arms as if afraid of being blasted to dust at any moment of their retreat.

Sans got a hold of himself in time and scattered the skull, shaking with rage and fear. He quickly got to his feet and ran to his brother, who was starting to sit up, gripping his skull with a groan.

"Papyrus! What were you thinking?!"

His brother tensed and his head snapped up, a look in his eyes Sans had never seen before. He was so furious, he was trembling.

"WHAT WAS I THINKING?! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!!" He got to his feet, smacking away Sans attempt to help him up. "WHY?! WHY DID YOU LEAVE?! WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!!!"

Papyrus took several steps back, looking at a loss for words, which was an incredible look on him. It didn't help that his face was still cracked wide open.

Sans stayed on his knees, taking his brother's fury wordlessly. What could he say? It was clear what he had intended to do. Nothing needed to be said.

Papyrus shook his head, looking distraught. "SANS...HOW...HOW CAN YOU BE SO STRONG....AND YET...AND YET...SO DAMN WEAK!!!"

Sans flinched as if he'd been hit. That was new. He'd never been called weak before in his life. ...And it coming from Papyrus made it so much worse. Cause it hammered down just how true it was. He was weak. He was pathetic. Goddamnit.

Papyrus picked up the bag Sans had packed for him last night, having brought it with him from the tent. He had dropped it earlier when he came to his rescue, and now was shoving it against Sans' chest.

"Come on. They'll be back," Papyrus said, looking and sounding a decade older than he actually was. "We're leaving!"

And with that, he turned to leave. He didn't even bother to heal himself. His back now facing him, Sans could see the crack running down the back of his skull. It was pretty bad. It would likely scar if he didn't treat it soon. Sans swallowed and slowly got to his feet, shouldering the bag.

The other choice snatched away, he did the only thing left to him.

He followed his brother.


	2. The Bet

* * *

 

In Waterfall, there was a perilous road that pressed against the middle of a tall cliff. Two waterfalls cascaded down between several echo flowers and aged plaques that preserved the monster race's tragic history. The cold, rushing water spilled across the path and continued, running down the side of the road and into darkness.

Needless to say, it was a dangerous area. Many monsters either slipped to their demise...or jumped. Then there were those that found the place perfect for an ambush.

The problem with that, however, was that it was too fucking obvious.

Undyne, Captain of the Royal Guard, was on her way to Hotland when she caught the whispers of the echo flowers on the wall.

_"There's something down there. Don't look...There's something down there. Don't look."_

She stopped right between the waterfalls, listening to the rushing water mingled with the soft voices. Undyne slowly removed her helmet and set it down on the ground. A slow smirk spread across her lips.

Too. Fucking. Obvious.

"UNDYNE! PREPARE YOURSELF...TO DIE!"

And he announced himself to boot. Priceless.

Undyne turned her good eye up, her jagged grin in full display. On top of the cliff, stood her self-proclaimed arch nemesis, The "Great" Papyrus. The skeleton stood tall, his red cape somehow billowing upwards around his head. He wore all black, handmade armor that paled in comparison to her own — she was sure it was made out of plastic — and dark crimson boots. His jagged skeletal grin curled into a smirk as he pointed his gloved finger down at her like some anime villain from one of Alphys' cartoons.

God, he was such a nerd!

Undyne straightened her back, not even bothering to hurry. She knew how much he wanted to prove his strength and how he would never get any satisfaction out of this if he only beat her by ambush...which made the whole charade pointless to begin with. It was shit like that that kept her from recruiting him in the first place. Well, that and these asinine attempts on her life.

Now that said...

It was impossible not to play along.

Undyne summoned a spear to her hand.  "BRING IT ON, BITCH!"

Blue bones erupted from the ground, caging her in. Another weird choice since the territory was perfect for throwing her off balance and off the edge, but the bones would keep her from moving. Was he really that much of an idiot?

The skeleton leapt from the cliff. White bones appeared quivering around his hands, ready to be flung at her at any moment. He was coming right for her and with the blue bones, it might have been a good trap...if it had been against anyone else. The blue bones were pointless in more ways than just one. Undyne had absolutely no intention of running away.

The bones were launched, shooting out like white arrows. Undyne smacked them away easily as her enemy landed on his feet a few yards ahead of her. She swung her spear around, smashing the cage of blue bones into particles of magic. Two waves of moving bones, a mix of white and blue, came her way. Undyne smashed the whites and stood still for the blue in precise, well-timed movements.

Before the idiot could launch another attack, Undyne raised her hand and the ground under her attacker glowed brightly. The skeleton noticed just in time and jumped back, barely avoiding the aqua-blue spears that shot up from the ground just where his feet had been.

She followed the attack with a barrage of projectiles from all sides and at all speeds. She watched as he dodged them all easily, but Undyne swiftly came up behind her arrows and swung at the skeleton's neck, the tip of her spear glowing green. Papyrus leaned far back, as if playing high stakes limbo. The point of the spear barely grazed the vertebrae. It was too shallow for the magic to take hold.

The skeleton staggered backwards and dropped to a knee, pressing a skeletal palm against the ground. Undyne expected an attack at her feet and jumped back, eyes on Papyrus. She summoned another spear to her hand and aimed for right between his eye sockets. Before she could throw, however,  she noticed the look of triumph on his face and the way his shadow darkened against the wet ground, as if something bright was shining directly above and behind him. Her eye darted to the source and widened at the sight of a large, white snake-like skull, its fanged jaws opening slowly, a ball of pure energy pulsing at its center like a charging cannon. Not good.

Usually she'd take it head on, but even she had enough common sense to recognize a bad time when she saw one. The canon fired, a solid stream of white hot magic plowing her way. Undyne leaned to the side and felt the laser graze the side of her face and the top of the armor on her shoulder. Taking the helmet off had been a stupid idea.

It seemed it only had one charge, but Papyrus wasn't about to give up the advantage. As she recovered her footing, he jumped to his feet and sent a solid mass of bones that took up the entire path her way. Undyne grit her teeth and took a running leap above the bones before they got too high and her armored boot collided with his face. He staggered backwards and the bones dissipated. She wouldn't let up, landing in a crouch and shooting a spear that plowed straight through his left collarbone. The impact pushed him off balance and the skeleton slid off the path, careening down the pit below.

All was quiet for a moment, nothing but the soft sound of rushing water filling the air. Undyne slowly got to her feet, still on guard. Was he finally dead? She was almost disappointed. Almost.

Walking over to the edge, she smirked darkly as she spotted the skeleton hanging off the cliff, clinging to a jutted rock. Papyrus glared daggers at her, the two pinpricks of light in his eye sockets glowing brightly with rage. Undyne summoned a spear, more than willing to finally end this charade forever. But she barely raised her hand to throw when the skeleton let go of the rock and fell, disappearing into the darkness.

After listening for a moment for the sound of his death and hearing nothing but utter silence, Undyne let her weapon disappear and stood straight, still staring at the abyss below. She felt something wet slide down her cheek. Raising her hand, she wiped it off her thumb and took a look. It was blood. Papyrus had actually cut her. It was the first time after a dozen of half-assed ambushes.

Her smirk grew.

"Impressive."

~~~

 

The front door slammed so hard against the wall, it bounced. Sans turned his head from the couch, remote still raised in his hand, flipping through channels. He watched as his brother stormed in, leaving wet footprints on the carpet, water dripping off every inch of his warrior body. He left the door open, swirls of snowflakes drifting inside and making even more wet splotches on the floor. The fact that Papyrus didn't seem to care was definitely a bad sign.

Sans' grin tilted up in the slightest of amused smirks. "So...how'd it go, boss?"

Papyrus stopped dead under the kitchen's doorway and visibly twitched at the mocking pet name.

"THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, SANS!"

He was using his excited voice. Nope. It hadn't gone well at all.

Sans turned around on the couch, leaning his arms on the headrest and grinning at his brother's back.

"Oh, come on. It couldn't have been that bad. Didn't you get really close last time? You'll be Captain of the Royal Guard in no time. So close, I can taste it."

Papyrus spun around and Sans eyes widened a bit when he noticed the jagged hole in his brother's shoulder.

His brother seemed completely unconcerned, but the injury didn't do anything to settle his anger. "WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?! AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE AT YOUR JOB!"

Sans quickly recovered, shrugging with an easy smile. "I'm taking a break before I clock in. Breaks are good for you, ya know. You should try it, boss."

Papyrus scowled and pointed at the open door with his right arm. Sans wondered if he could even lift the left at all. "URG, JUST GO ALREADY! THE SIGHT OF YOU PISSES ME OFF! YOU'RE SO GODDAMN LAZY. I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT SACK OF HOT AIR SEES IN YOU!"

"I'd say it would be my charming personality," Sans said, leaning his cheek on his hand. "You know, I've been thinking. Maybe you should be calling _me_ 'boss' since I'm the only one with a j—"

He quickly ducked into the cushions as three bones impaled the headrest just where he had been resting his arms.

"SANS! JUST GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!! AND DON'T YOU DARE FORGET ABOUT PRACTICE TONIGHT!"

"Geez, fine! Alright! I'm out! See ya around... _boss_!"

Sans teleported just outside the open front door before his brother could sling more bones at him. He grabbed the doorknob and shut it quickly. He expected the door to tremble with more bone attacks, but it remained still, nothing but silence on the other end.

...Maybe Papyrus was tired. Or more hurt than he let on.

Sans stared at the door, his grin slipping. It was obvious that the real reason his brother wanted him out was so he didn't have to see him treating that wound. Cause Heaven forbid that it's known that The Great Papyrus was NOT invincible.

It was actually an unspoken routine with them. Sans always waited for him at the house when Papyrus was out on one of his "missions". His goal to become Captain of the Royal Guard had taken over his life. His brother would think and talk about nothing else.

At first, Sans had insisted he watched the confrontations on the sidelines, but Papyrus refused and even threatened to chain him up in their shed if he even tried. So waiting for him at home had been the silent compromise. Usually Papyrus didn't mind. The first few times he returned, Papyrus had sat beside him and gone on and on excitedly as if he had been victorious, raving about his excellent performance, even if Captain Undyne always forced him into a strategic retreat at the end. The fights never lasted long, but Papyrus never did get too injured. His brother gave it his all and exhausted himself almost immediately (okay, so maybe Sans had watched a few of their fights without being noticed). Papyrus then somehow always managed to escape when it was obvious Undyne was nowhere near her limit, ready to shower him with an endless barrage of spears.

As time went on, it was obvious his brother was getting impatient. Achieving his goal was taking longer than he expected and Papyrus was becoming more desperate and irritable. He was slipping — in more ways than one judging by how drenched his brother had been. Sans didn't like it. But what could he do about it? Once his brother set his mind on something, there was absolutely nothing he could say that would change his mind. Oh well.

Sans sighed and took a deep breath, pulling up the easy grin back on his face before he turned around and faced the rest of Snowdin Town. Even letting your guard down right outside your front door was a bad idea, but he'd been feeling rather reckless lately.

Pulling his favorite black jacket closer to his body, he buried his hands--covered in his usual fingerless biker gloves--into his pockets and trudged down the snow covered path.

The town was a shit-hole. The further you lived from the Capital, the worse the conditions. Most of the houses were boarded up. Not because they were abandoned, but because it gave the dwellers a bit more protection from burglars and vandals. In fact, each house probably housed at least two families and up to four depending on the size of the house and how much the family could contribute.

It was true, there was safety in numbers...when you were weak anyways. Sans never bothered with alliances with strangers. They always ended in betrayal and bloodshed. He'd seen the townsfolk’s eyes, darting from side to side, filled with anxiety. They were constantly watching their back to see if their roommate was about to bury a knife in it. He also noticed the bags hanging from under their eyes. They probably never slept. Not really. Hell, he hardly slept either. No one did.

The center of town was mostly empty as usual, only a few homeless monsters sleeping outside the old, dilapidated library, its misspelled sign hanging off from one side. Inside was dark, the electricity having been cut off months ago, but sometimes you'd see firelight flickering through the windows in the dead of night. But with no power, it was a death sentence to live there unless you were a monster that didn't mind the extreme cold. Today, it was dead and still as a grave, but Sans kept an eye socket on the monsters wrapped in thin blankets by the doorstep.

One of the main reasons the town center was always empty was the increase of muggings out in the open. Not like the dog patrol were going to do anything about it. The Capital didn't give a shit about the people of Snowdin, so why should they?  

GRILLBY'S was the only exception and probably the only reason why Snowdin still breathed...even if it was a shallow, rattling cough of life. Hell, it was definitely the only reason Sans and Papyrus were there, that's for sure. He owed Grillby more than he liked, but there was nothing to be done about it. Whatever. It actually wasn't that bad.

He pushed open the door and felt a rush of warm air against his face. The chatter died a bit, but resumed almost immediately once they recognized his trademark jacket and sneakers. The place was packed as usual. Free heat was something most monsters could not resist in Snowdin. But they also couldn't resist the food or the other pleasures the bar offered. Not for free, of course. It was what made GRILLBY'S so damn successful, and this town so damn poor.

"Hiya, Sansy."

Sans barely took two steps inside when his way was blocked by an extended, furry leg. Lola, one of Grillby's regulars, reached out and grabbed his jacket, pulling him over to her booth. She grinned and he was hit square in the face with the stench of hard liquor. "How ya doing?"

Sans smirked. Honestly, Lola was one of his favorites. If it wasn't for some of her...less attractive habits, he'd probably spend more time with her.

"Alright. How's business?"

She pressed her fuzzy face against his neck, nuzzling between the soft lining of his hoodie and his neck. "Slow. I'm soooo booooored."

The gesture pulled him further down and he put his hand on the table to lean on, almost bending over her. His eyes skimmed the top of the table, spotting an empty, but used shot glass, a half-empty bottle of Grillby's famous fire whiskey, and a gold coin covered in a small line of brilliant multicolored dust. "Temmie-flakes" they called it. The most popular drug on the market this side of town. He had never tried it, but heard it gave you one hell of a high that made every limb in your body vibrate with ecstasy.

There was a rumor that it was made from actual Temmie dust. It was probably a joke, but Sans didn't find it funny, oddly enough. It grossed him out.

"Come play with me," she murmured against his skull, her hand sliding under the hem of his shorts.

Sans' smirk grew, a shiver of lust running up his spine as her fingertips brushed against his bare pelvis. God, it was so tempting.

"Hey, Sans! Grillbz says he wants you! Now!"

Sans turned his head away from Lola, who was now kissing down his neck, fingers pushing up his shirt. She wasn't kidding. But one look at the bartender and he could tell he was also not playing around.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Maybe later." He pried off her hands reluctantly, ignoring her soft whines, and walked over to the bar.

He passed the group of Royal Guard Dogs, who were giving him the usual hungry stare they always gave whenever he was within sight. They didn't even bother to hide their drool. Whether they wanted to eat him or fuck him, he'll never know. But they knew better. Even after years of not fighting a single monster, his reputation still held strong. They wouldn't dare touch him. Especially not in here.

Sans sat down next to Rosie, the red bird monster who had called him over, another regular. It was his usual spot with a good view of everything that happened in the bar and behind the bar. He smirked at the flaming bar owner, who stood silently and expressionlessly.

"What's up, Grillby?"

Grillby just stared back at him, the flames of his head cackling softly. Rosie turned her head towards them both, eyes drooping in a drunken daze. "He says you're late, Sans."

"What are you talking about?" Sans spread his hands. "Did I miss anything? Was someone out of line?"

The flame monster just continued to stare back at him.

"No," Rosie translated. "But it's the principle of the matter, he says."

Sans chuckled. Rosie was a horrible translator. Grillby didn't give a shit. But she had been right. Grillby wanted him for something. "I'll focus on my job. You focus on yours...Rosie."

The bird monster just shrugged and turned back to her beer, taking a long drag. Sans kept his attention on Grillby and leaned forward, smirking. "Come on. What is it?"

"...You're late."

Sans arched an eye ridge at him. "So?"

"...With rent."

Something close to anger started to boil under his ribcage, his eye sockets widening. "What are you talking about?" he said, keeping his grin. "My job pays my rent."

"...Your job pays your tab." Grillby reached out a hand then, the warm flames covering the bones of his wrist. It was said that monsters like him could incinerate you with a single handshake if you so much as look at them the wrong way. But Grillby's touch was gentle and harmless, despite the sharp edge to his voice. "You know what pays your rent."

Sans blinked and the anger disappeared as fast as it appeared. His smirk was back and so was that hint of lust Lola had sparked in him earlier, slowly building in the center of his pelvis.

"Oh? What about the bar?" Sans jerked his head over his shoulder at the other patrons.

His job was simple. Keep the place peaceful. No fights. No deaths. Sans' presence alone did most of the work. A few times a month he'd sent a rowdy monster or two flying out the revolving door, but otherwise it was just endless free food and drink for sitting on his ass all day long. The house Grillby rented to him and his brother, however...well, that was a bit more complicated.

Grillby arched a fire-eyebrow over the rim of his glasses. "...Meet me in the office in three minutes."

After tightly squeezing his hand and shooting him the equivalent of a dirty look, flames cackling a bit louder — just for show, of course — the walking fire turned and left through the kitchen door.

Sans sighed heavily, then grinned at Rosie, who was still busy with her beer.

"I love my job."

 

 

**~s~**

 

 

"...F-f-fuck...g-god...b-boss...f-fuck!"

Grillby wasn't playing around. Sans had no idea what had gotten into him, but he honestly didn't mind. Not at all.

Sans had no idea what to expect when he jumped the bar's counter and slipped through the kitchen door. It was a self sustaining kitchen, run entirely by his boss' magic. At the other side was another door leading to the office. He had barely slipped through when a glowing hand grabbed his arm, pulling him around and pressing his back against something solid and warm. If he hadn't known who it was ahead of time, well...

But then another incredibly warm hand had slid into his shorts, grasping his pubis tightly between two fingers and, without even moving them, sent incredible heat throughout his entire pelvis. Sans gasped and arched against Grillby's grasp, his back pressed against the fire monster's chest.

The hand holding his arm released him and, instead, slid under his shirt, pulling it up and trailing fire over each rib. Sans squirmed, his knees buckling. In no time flat, his magic summoned a hot, dripping mound just below Grillby's fingers. They pushed inside easily and Sans moaned, unable to even begin to hold it in.

"B-boss...please..." he panted, arching his hips against the intrusion. Sans reached behind with his own hand, pulling down the fly of Grillby's expensive pants and sliding inside, grasping and squeezing his cock. "...p-please..."

He knew how much his boss loved it when he begged. So he played the game. Hell, it was nice to let loose. Just give in to the lust, the desire, the pleasure. God, he loved it.

But then it was gone, snatched away in an instant.

Grillby let him go and spun him around, forcing him down to his knees. Sans blinked away his confusion, focusing on the tip of a radiant cock being thrust in his face.

"...You know what to do."

Sans gave him an annoyed look. "Of course. Anything for you, _boss_."

Unlike his brother, Grillby didn't appear annoyed at all. He opened his mouth, letting his red tongue slid out of his mouth. Slowly, he ran the tip of his tongue along the underside of Grillby's warm cock, rubbing against the head as it came up. The bones around his mouth were actually quite soft and pliable, much to Grillby's surprise the first time they'd done this.

For not the first nor the last time, Sans wrapped his mouth around him, easing up on his teeth as he sucked and swallowed, moaning deeply. Grillby pressed a fiery hand against his skull, pressing him forward. With no gag reflex, the skeleton summoned a red, fleshy throat to wrap around his cock to the hilt, working fervently.

Finally, he heard the fire monster moan, his flames cackling and rising to the ceiling of the small, cluttered office. His employer removed his hand and Sans took it as his cue. After sucking and swallowing for a moment longer, enjoying the man's warmth and spicy taste, he pulled back, red drool trailing down his jaw. Sans looked up at him, licking away Grillby's simmering pre-cum from his chin before slowly standing and walking to the desk.

He could feel Grillby's eyes on him as he moved and it turned him on even more, the mound between his legs burning with desire. He pressed his palms against the desk and bent forward, his clothed tailbone stuck high in the air, facing Grillby. Sans waited with bated breath, tongue licking his teeth. He trembled with lust, but didn't beg this time. He simply waited as his boss finally walked over and pulled his shorts down to his ankles. He pressed Sans further onto the desk, his chin pressing against the hard surface. Grillby grabbed his hips, pressing the head of his throbbing cock against his slit.

"God...B-boss...please..." Sans mewled, knowing from experience exactly what Grillby wanted to hear.

Grillby's fingers dug into his hip bones and he knew he had done good. The next thing he knew, a hot, throbbing cock was plunged deep inside his folds and he cried out sharply, eyes falling shut.

"S-Shit! Oh! Fuck!"

Grillby didn't waste any time, pounding away, his waist slapping against Sans' summoned genitalia, making lewd noises that filled the room. A stream of obscenities escaped Sans mouth as he moaned, buckling under the assault.

"Yes! Yes, fuck me...god...."

"....Hey...Sans."

Sans opened his eyes slightly, still grunting with every thrust. Grillby didn't slow down, but maintained a steady pace as he talked to him as if over cups of coffee.

"...I was wondering..."

"Ah...nngh...ye...yeah...?...What?"

"...Your brother..."

Sans' eyes shot wide open, but then Grillby thrust into a particularly sweet spot and he arched his back, crying out. "Ah!! Y...Y...yes?!...w-what about him?! Ooh!!"

"...Do...you think he'd be into me?"

Even as Sans was being thoroughly fucked, he couldn't help blinking in surprise and the slightest of smirks spread across his face. "Mmm...well...um...s-shit...boss...I...I dunno..."

Sans suddenly found himself on the floor, Grillby tossing him down and pulling up on his hips. He barely managed to find his balance, leaning on his elbows, as he was penetrated again, Grillby sparing no mercy as he moved hard and fast.

"...Just...put in a good word for me. ...Make it happen, got it?"

Sans grit his teeth. Not to muffle a moan, but instead to stifle his laughter. "O...Okay, b-boss! AH!!"

Grillby didn't say anything else after that, silently plowing into him over and over again, hitting his spot more than not. Sans was in absolute bliss, groaning and moaning with each thrust. It wouldn't take much longer, the pleasure, hot and intense, building with ease. Still, he held on, waiting for Grillby to finish. The bastard took forever and he preferred that he went first. It was less about making sure Grillby had a good time, and more about wanting to be the last one standing. Everything in life was a contest. Including this.

Finally, Sans' patience paid off. Grillby dug his fiery nails into his hips and shoved his cock deep inside as he came, growling loudly. His hot, spicy cum hit him just right and Sans found himself overwhelmed by his orgasm, the pleasure wiping his mind blank, his entire body trembling and arching into the violent intrusion.

It lasted only seconds and soon, he collapsed on the ground in a puddle of his own fluids. Grillby pulled out shortly after, his fiery boss' cum sliding down his inner thigh bones. It was warm and Sans shivered at the sensation, enjoying it. God, there was no drug in the world better than this.

He heard the bar owner pull up pants and buckle his belt. Glancing up from the ground, he watched as Grillby lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag as he leaned against his desk, acting as if he hadn't just screwed his employee into the floor of his own office.

Sans turned over onto his back and sat up. He didn't bother pulling up his shorts even as his summoned genitalia vanished.

"Hey, boss. How about we make it interesting?"

Grillby arched a fire-brow at him. He let out a stream of smoke before answering. "...What do you mean."

"I mean a bet. You see...my brother, he's...a bit finicky." Sans paused, searching for the right words as Grillby took another puff off his cigarette. "Tell you what. I'll make sure he comes into the bar in the best of moods. Or at least as good as it gets. But don't expect a fucking miracle. That's up to you."

Grillby didn't say anything at first, but after a few years under his employ, Sans could read the frown on his otherwise emotionless face.

"...You think I can't seduce him?"

"Like I said, it's up to you. ...So let's make a bet." Sans smirked. "If you succeed and you get into Papyrus' pants...I'll do whatever you want."

Grillby blinked. "...You already..."

He trailed off when Sans shook his head.

"No. I mean, WHATEVER...you want. Anything. Remember that one time you wanted me to wear a dog collar and leash, and I nearly blasted a hole in your ceiling for even suggesting it?"

Grillby looked to the side and said nothing, smoking his cigarette. Yeah, he remembered.

"If you manage to fuck my brother, I'll wear it and even bark like a dog. I'll go the whoooole nine yards." Sans grinned widely. "How about it?"

Grillby silently considered it and only spoke again when he was finished with his cigarette, digging the butt into the oak ashtray on his desk. "...And what do you get if you win?"

Sans' grin turned into a devilish smirk for only an instant before he got to his feet, fixing his shorts. "I get..." He walked over to him, leaning up on his tiptoes so he was as close to eye level with him as possible. "...you. I get to top you. What do you say?"

Grillby's gaze burrowed into his eye sockets and Sans counted the seconds as he maintained eye contact. He almost reached sixty when...

"...Agreed."

Sans reached out, cupping Grillby's cheek.

"It's a bet, then."

He pulled him into a kiss, feeling his hot, flaming tongue slide into his mouth, warming him up from his toes all the way to his very soul.

This was going to be so much fun.

* * *

 


	3. Childhood #2 "BOSS"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the love and respect and hugs and kisses and more love and ALL THE SPECIAL THANKS to [PurrfecktlySinful](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PurrfecktlySinful), [undertailsoulsex](http://archiveofourown.org/users/undertailsoulsex), [SoloShikigami](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SoloShikigami/pseuds/SoloShikigami) and [unrestedjade](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unrestedjade) for putting up with my whining, encouraging me and giving these chapters a look over. 
> 
> You guys are the best and I love you <3

~Childhood #2~  
"Boss"

* * *

 

A thunderous crash shook the tent and startled Sans awake. He stared around wildly, soul pounding against his ribs and his left eye burning brightly in its socket. Papyrus was nowhere to be seen. There was another crash, this one even closer, and Sans quickly teleported outside to find the cause. Where was his brother?! What was going on?!

Worst case scenarios ran through his mind. The older siblings of the bunny monster from yesterday, or maybe even their parents, had come to take revenge for their dead. It could be another raid, maybe this time King Asgore’s Royal Guard had finally come to clean out the dump. Or the slave traffickers from New Home had decided to go on another kidnapping spree since the dump was the best place to find runaways and orphans, their prime targets. But when Sans appeared outside, he didn’t see a single Royal Guard or child-stealing scumbag. Instead he saw his reckless baby bones of a brother doing his absolute best to get them both killed.

Papyrus was standing at the top of the hill of trash they lived on, summoning as many attacks as his small soul could manage before throwing them as hard as he could against the nearest pile of garbage. It exploded on impact, small and large pieces of trash raining down on them like rotten candy from a burst piñata.

“Papyrus! What are you doing?!”

His brother spun around and Sans cringed. The crack was still there, glaring and obvious on Papyrus’ skull, cutting through his right eye-socket. It was beyond all help now, a permanent reminder of Sans’ weakness.

“Training,” Papyrus said very seriously. The nine-year-old faced another trash heap, pulling up his magic.

“Stop that!” Sans darted in front of him. “You’re going to attract every asshole that would want us for dinner. Do you have a death wish?”

Papyrus glared and Sans had never seen him look so indignant in their entire short lives together. “No, I’m not you!” Sans winced as if Papyrus had slapped him. His brother didn’t seem to care. He shouldered past him, trying to bring his magic to bear once more. “Let them come. They’ll make for a good warm-up!”

“Paps, what’s the matter? Why are you acting like this?” Sans’ voice was softer than he’d like. Honestly, he didn’t even need to ask. It was obvious what was going on.

“From now on, I’m going to be the one who protects us.” Papyrus, whose forehead barely reached the top of Sans’ chest, pulled up more bone projectiles from the ground to throw. “Not you.”

Sans watched as Papyrus sent the row of flimsy bones at a pile of assorted plastic trash. Before it hit, Sans brought forth a blaster in a blink of an eye and shot a short burst of magic. It took nothing, a tiny fraction of magic from his soul. Hell, he barely even felt it and still it reduced his brother’s bone attack to nothing but magical ash. The blast wasn’t even hot enough to scorch the compacted trash that made up the ground.

“That wouldn’t so much as leave a scratch on a monster’s ass,” Sans snapped. “Drop this, Papyrus. Now.”

Sans watched his brother grind his teeth, watched as the cogs in Papyrus’ mind turned furiously. It wouldn’t make any difference. He couldn’t deny the truth. Papyrus faced him and once again Sans was hit with the most determined glare he had ever seen on a nine-year-old.

“THEN TEACH ME! TRAIN ME!” Papyrus jabbed a finger against his chest. “MAKE ME AS STRONG AS YOU ARE!”

Sans scoffed and glanced to the side. “Oh, now I’m strong? …Only when it’s convenient for you, right?”

He turned away, shoving his hands into his pockets. He didn’t even want to consider it. Papyrus fighting was just out of the question. Maybe later, when he was older…or maybe not even then. It just wasn’t necessary when Sans could protect them both. He had kept them alive for this long, hadn’t he?

“Just drop it, Papyrus. Enough.”

But apparently it wasn’t enough. Not for Papyrus, anyway. Morning after morning, Sans was violently woken by the deafening crack of bone and the stench of raining garbage thanks to his brother’s new training regimen. If not at the crack of dawn, then in the middle of the night, drill after drill of attacks that wouldn’t even hurt a baby moldsmal. More than once, they had to make a quick getaway, Sans grabbing his brother and teleporting deeper into Waterfall before their hostile and sleep-deprived neighbors decided to have them for lunch.

Sans knew Papyrus didn’t need a fraction of the sleep normal monsters did. He found this out the hard way when they were both little and Sans had fallen asleep, exhausted from scavenging all day, and tiny four-year-old Papyrus had wandered away. It had been a terrifying experience, but one they both learned from quickly. Papyrus was glued to his hip after that and pretended to sleep or just stay very still at night in order to let Sans rest.

Now, Papyrus just didn’t seem to care anymore. Sans barely got in the nap he needed to get his lousy HP the tiny buffer it would give him. It was exhausting and no amount of begging or scolding would get Papyrus to stop. Sans even tried to bribe him with what little gold he managed to find, but it was no use. He may as well have offered him the very trash they lived on. To make matters even worse, Papyrus started to talk back and pick fights whenever he could. It was so unlike him that it was alarming. Before the incident, Papyrus had always been a good child, always did as he was told — especially when he was so little, when it was so important. He had stopped crying when their lives depended on silence, had waited alone in the darkest of hiding spots for hours while Sans led sex traffickers and gang members on wild goose chases, and had barely complained when Sans couldn’t find edible food for days. He had been such a good boy.

One morning, after a week of endless defiance and restless nights, Sans couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed Papyrus’ tiny wrist before he could launch another stupid attack.

“Stop it! Do you hear me?! I am so DONE with this BULLSHIT!”

He expected Papyrus to yell back, to scream at him to let him go. Instead the little brat kicked him hard in the shin.

Sans cursed in pain, letting him go. “You little—”

He brought back his hand, white hot rage coursing through his bones. Instead of running, Papyrus stood ready, tiny fists raised and eyes bright with eager anticipation. Sans froze, breathing harshly as he reined in his anger. No, he wasn’t about to be played by his own baby brother.

“Damnit, Paps. I’m not going to fight you.” He sighed, dropping his hand as if it suddenly weighed a hundred pounds. “Just… Whatever. Do what you want. Just…do it away from me. Okay?”

Sans turned away, walking down the hill.

“Where are you going?” Papyrus asked, lowering his fists. He was doing a poor job at hiding the worry in his voice.

Sans blocked it out, refusing to be swayed. “Away. Maybe find some goddamn peace and quiet for once.”

He expected Papyrus to stop him, to tug on his jacket and insist he stay. But Papyrus didn’t say a word. Instead, he followed him.

Sans stopped. “What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like? I’m going with you,” his brother said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Sans turned around and arched an eye ridge at him. “Didn’t I just say I wanted some peace and quiet?”

“I can be quiet,” Papyrus said, keeping his voice low. “Real quiet.”

Oh, now he was obedient.

It was the way he was looking at him, like Papyrus couldn’t trust him, that made Sans feel…well, he wasn’t quite sure, but he definitely didn’t like it.

“Go…play or something. Quietly. Without blowing shit up. Can you do that for me, Paps? Can you?!” Sans snapped, not really having the patience for this today.

He started to walk away again only to hear Papyrus fall back into step right behind him. Sans stopped in his tracks as it dawned on him what this was all about.

“Papyrus.” Sans took a slow, deep breath, determined to keep control of his temper. His brother went still a few steps behind him. “I’m fine. You can relax. You don’t have to worry about me, okay? …I’ll be sure to bring something good back for dinner tonight.”

Sans did his best to keep his anger and frustration out of his voice. It wasn’t even directed towards his brother, but rather at himself. This was his fault. For being such a failure.

For not even dying right.

He started walking again and this time there was a longer pause before his brother’s short, shuffling steps picked up again.

“Stop!” Sans spun around, raising his hand to stop him from getting any closer. “Just STOP! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I don’t need a fucking baby sitter! Go away, Paps. I mean it!”

Papyrus didn’t so much as flinch. He just stared at him intently without saying a word. Sans held his gaze for a long minute, before slowly turning around and began to leave again.

His brother silently followed.

Oh. That was it.

Was that how he wanted to play? Fine!

Did Paps really think he could actually watch over him like he was some goddamn baby bones? Hell, Sans was the one who watched out for him! That’s how it had been all this time! And now this nine-year-old was trying to switch it around on him? After everything he’d done for the little brat?!

“Alright. That’s it.” Sans spun around on his heel, grinning and winking at his brother as he waved. “Bye.”

Papyrus eyes widened and he darted forward as he realized what he was about to do.

“No wait-!”

His words were cut off as Sans disappeared, his surroundings replaced with another section of Waterfall. Sans stood there for a moment, listening. Nothing but the sound of running water, the pounding of his own soul and the soft breeze that ran down these empty caverns from miles above. He was alone. Finally.

It didn’t take long before his anger cooled and his frustrations melted away. He sighed heavily, staring down at the softly lit water that ran by his scuffed up sneakers. Reason finally caught up to him.

What was he doing? Why was he running away like this?

Papyrus was just worried about him. Hell, wouldn’t he be too if Papyrus had pulled an idiotic stunt like that? And why on earth would he leave Paps alone right now, when he was being so stupid and careless? …What was the matter with him?

When did Sans stop giving a fuck?

Wasn’t the only reason he got out of bed anymore because Papyrus needed him? But even that wasn’t enough anymore, was it? And now it was all falling apart. Sans didn’t know whether he regretted making the attempt or regretted failing to make sure Papyrus hadn’t followed him.

He just didn’t know.

 

~~~

 

Sans took a long walk around Waterfall, trying to clear his head. He never liked leaving his brother’s side for any length of time even though he knew the kid was smart and fast enough to keep safe. Still, Papyrus had been too reckless these past weeks. Again, Sans’ fault, which made it even more stupid to just leave him like that.

Sans just hoped that this time apart would be enough for them both to cool off. Maybe he could somehow think of the right words that would convince Papyrus that he was fine now and somehow this could all go back to normal.

…Maybe

…Hopefully.

The image of his brother’s cracked open face flared bright and searing in his mind’s eye, making him cringe.

Who was he kidding?

Sans was surprised that Papyrus didn’t outright hate him.

Maybe he did.

That had been the plan. Sans was supposed to disappear without a trace, leaving Papyrus to forever wonder what had happened to him. Sans had hoped that Paps would assume he had abandoned him, left him to join some gang or just to get away and be unburdened for once. Nothing could be further from the truth, of course. Papyrus had never been a burden. It was the heaviness of his sins and the immense, uncontrollable power he wielded that had been the burden.

Still, it would’ve been easier. A mercy, even. Maybe selfish. …Okay, most definitely selfish.

Sans didn’t want to lose his baby brother’s adoration, his respect. He’d take hatred over pity. Hell, apparently it didn’t matter. Papyrus would hate him regardless.

His actions were loathsome, cowardly, pathetic….

God, he was so tired.

Sans found himself back at the top of the hill of trash, right beside their shitty tent. It was empty and so was his brother’s little training arena, a.k.a. the surrounding area.

Had Papyrus tried to follow him? Or maybe he was taking his own walk around Waterfall.

Gripping the inside of his tattered jacket, Sans let out a heavy sigh and started down the hill again. A voice told him to forget it, to crawl inside their tent and just sleep the rest of the day away. But Sans resisted.

He had a bad feeling about this.

 

~~~

 

 

It took nearly an hour before Sans found him.

He wasn’t alone.

It was like that day the teenagers ransacked their tent all over again. Papyrus was surrounded by kids double his size. The only difference was that he wasn’t on the ground, but on his feet…fighting back.

“IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!” Papyrus taunted despite a fresh crack in his lower jaw, magic oozing down his chin.

A larger monster — a dragon with dark green scales — grabbed him by the neck.

“You talk too much!” she growled, sharp teeth bared. “How about I shut you up permanently?!”

The dragon, just a few years older than Sans, opened her large jaws, ready to snap them shut around Papyrus’ skull. Her face barely registered her surprise as her soul turned blue. It happened too quickly. Sans grabbed it and flung her violently against the nearest wall, panic dissolving any amount of restraint he might have used with a clearer head.

Her friends backed away from Papyrus, eyes on Sans as he dashed towards his brother.

“Fuck off!” he snarled, eye burning blue as a blaster manifested over his head.

They didn’t need to be told twice. They bailed immediately, leaving their comrade in an unconscious heap at the bottom of the wall. Some friends they were. But Sans was glad they made scarce. He was too furious and didn’t know what he’d have done if they had stayed and tried to fight back.

Sans yanked Papyrus up by the collar of his shirt. “What the fuck is the matter with you?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?! You started that fight, didn’t you?!” Sans shook him. “ _Didn’t you?!_ ”

Papyrus smirked, eye-lights barely focused. For a moment, Sans thought his brother had completely lost his mind.

His baby brother laughed, red magic running down his mouth. “At least I can fucking take a hit.”

There was a loud ringing in Sans’ nonexistent ears, a cold fury enveloping his soul. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak. He stared incredulously at his once cherished, snot-nosed, little shit of a brother and his fucked up, shit-eating grin. Luckily, the moment of paralyzing rage gave him a moment to consider.

He wasn’t furious with Papyrus.

He was mind-numbingly furious at himself.

Slowly, it dawned on him. Papyrus was never going to forget, was never going to forgive. He was never going to stop. This was Sans’ punishment for his weakness, for his failure. No. No, not a punishment. Collateral damage. He had wounded Papyrus, ruined him permanently. Whoever Papyrus might have been — happy, optimistic, kind — was gone now. All that was left was this creature.

Violent. Angry. Bitter. Reckless.

This was _his_ fault.

Sans’ grin widened considerably as self-loathing wrapped around his soul in a permanent vise, suffocating and invigorating at the same time.

Well, then. He must take responsibility for his sins.

“Fine. If this is what you want, then so be it.”

Sans let him go. Papyrus swayed slightly on the spot, but planted his feet and stared back at him defiantly. Despite his determination and bravado, there was a wariness that bled around the edges of his stare.

Good. He should be afraid.

“Alright, **_boss_** ,” Sans spat, the word drenched in sarcasm. “We’ll do it your way.”


	4. The Spar

* * *

 

It fucking hurt.

Papyrus carefully pressed his hand against the gaping, golf-ball-sized hole in his left scapula. The warmth of his healing magic lessened the pain, but it did nothing for his frustration.

So close. He had been so close. And yet…

If only he could use the blasters as easily and as often as his brother, then he’d have won. But just the one he managed to summon (and that in itself had taken him a over a decade of training to learn) drained on his soul like nothing he’d ever experienced before. How his brother could summon an apparent never ending supply of death cannons boggled his mind. If only he could summon one more, just one more, then he’d have won and years of training and struggle and fighting and injury would have paid off _finally_.

But not yet.

Not fucking yet.

Papyrus growled with frustration.

It was taking too long. True, they were no longer homeless. They had food, shelter, clothes… Sans actually looked happy for once. Kind of. Okay, not really, and he still wasn’t sleeping. Sans was slacking off, even more than usual. It was dangerous and Papyrus got the unsettling feeling that Sans knew it too and just didn’t care.

That was unacceptable.

Once the hole in his shoulder-blade had sealed up, Papyrus brought his fingers to the crack that tore across his eye socket, frowning deeply.

He had to get stronger…the sooner, the better.

Papyrus wasn’t about to give up.

Not ever

Sighing heavily, Papyrus let his hand drop as he stood. Today was their weekly sparring day, which meant he had less time to do chores…not that Sans cared. If he had left it up to his brother, they would still be living in a dump, just inside their own home. Even if they didn’t technically own it, Papyrus still had his HIGH standards.

He eyed the holes he had ripped into the couch when Sans had pissed him off earlier with disdain.

Might as well start there.

 

~~~

 

“Another one,” Sans said, slamming the empty shot glass on the bar.

Grillby arched a flaming eyebrow at him. He still had the bottle of fire whiskey in his hand from the last shot he poured him a few moments ago. He poured him another.

“…I never took you for an alcoholic, Sans.”

It was true. After all the years he had known the skeleton, Grillby noticed that Sans had only one vice and one vice only…which he had taken full advantage of. But alcohol was definitely not it.

“It’s not that,” Sans said before downing the shot, hiccupping. “I can’t fake it. Gotta go down for real. Otherwise he’d be able to tell.”

Grillby stared puzzled at his prized employee. They were mostly alone besides Big Mouth Fred, who sat in his table against the wall as usual. But he only left when they kicked him out. He was harmless enough, so Grillby often let him stay as he cleaned up. They had closed about ten minutes ago. His other two employees were out working, and the more rowdier patrons had already been sent packing. Usually, he let Sans go a half hour before closing. By then, there was really no monster left that Grillby couldn’t handle himself. But Sans had insisted on staying…and drinking, of all things.

“…I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Grillby said as he refilled the shot glass for the fifth time. Once again, he found himself wondering if it was actually a wise investment to have Sans work off his tab rather than actually paying it. He never knew two monsters who ate and drank as much as these two brothers, despite the fact that neither of them had stomachs or livers.

Sans half turned, eyeballing the clock above the front door. “You said put him in a good mood, right? I know just the thing.”

Grillby wanted to argue that actually he had told Sans to put in a good word for him with his brother, but before he could say anything, Sans laid his head on the counter, pillowed on his arms. The skeleton barely started to snore when the door suddenly burst open, the harsh wind billowing snow across the room.

Usually, that was a clear sign of trouble. With his so-called bouncer out of commission, Grillby reached for his magic, his body burning bright hot in the dim establishment, casting dark, flickering shadows across the room. But when he recognized who it was, his magic burned hotter for a completely different reason.

Papyrus was stunning when he was furious, which was great for Grillby, since he had yet to see the monster in any other kind of mood. The tall skeleton’s permanent scowl was turned in his direction, his gloved hands in tight fists. He was wearing the usual black “battle” outfit, his red scarf billowing behind him as he strode inside, leaving the door open. It was obvious he had no intention of lingering.

Big Mouth Fred eyed Papyrus nervously as he strode by. That was the common reaction towards the younger skeleton. He was angry, volatile, and unpredictable. The complete opposite of Sans, really, despite the fact it was the older one you had to really worry about.

As far as Grillby knew, Papyrus had yet to claim a single kill. Still, no one was eager to be his first.

“Sans! You’re late! Get up!” Papyrus glared at his dozing brother, completely ignoring Grillby’s existence.

That might have actually stung, if he had still been in high school. “…I think he’s asleep.”

Papyrus turned his glare to Grillby, who stood calmly behind the bar. Honestly, he had been around both of them long enough to know Papyrus was all bark and no bite.

“…Do you want me to wake him?” Grillby offered, not sure what else to say.

Papyrus’ eye sockets narrowed suspiciously at Sans, before something Grillby couldn’t quite place skirted over his expression.

“No. Leave him.” Papyrus sighed and sat down on the stool next to his brother.

Grillby blinked, not expecting that. He watched as Papyrus rested his cheekbone against his open palm, staring at the wall as he seemed to simply…wait? Wait for what?

“…Can I get you any—?” Grillby offered, not sure what else to say, but was sharply cut off.

“No.” Papyrus didn’t even bother to glance at him, as if he found the wall to be vastly more interesting.

There was a moment of silence. In that moment, Grillby realized this wasn’t a coincidence. Papyrus never came in here. He was too “busy” or for some other reason that even Sans couldn’t explain. It seemed Papyrus just didn’t like it here. So to have Papyrus actually sitting at his bar for even a few minutes was no accident.

Grillby glanced at Sans, who was still snoring, remembering their bet. True, Sans would never let him live it down if he lost…

But there was so much to gain if he won.

Grillby eyed the length of Papyrus’ neck and his exposed spine under his ribs, resisting the urge to lick his lips.

The prize was worth the risk.

“…Papyrus.” Grillby leaned forward on the bar, leaning on his elbow as spoke quietly. “…If you’re not having anything, why don’t you make yourself comfortable in my room while your brother finishes his nap?”

Papyrus glanced at him without moving his head, scarred eye-ridge narrowing. “I doubt it’ll take more than a few minutes. Why would I want to do that?”

Grillby shrugged, realizing he may have to be a little more direct with this one. “…I was thinking that perhaps…I could entertain you while you wait, if you get my drift.”

That got his attention. The skeleton turned to fully face him.

“I SEE.”

Papyrus stood from his stool and leaned forward, his palms on the counter. Grillby hadn’t anticipated the move and leaned back as the skeleton crowded his personal space. Papyrus didn’t seem at all uncomfortable from the high temperature that his close proximity might cause a monster. The skeleton smirked, their mouths inches apart.

“THAT DOES SOUND LIKE FUN.”

Grillby heard something that sounded like a snicker. He took his eyes off Papyrus for only a moment, glancing down at Sans’ supposedly sleeping face. He barely had time to register that permanent grin of his twitching at the corners when he was pushed roughly backwards.

Papyrus had a firm grip on Grillby’s shoulder, shoving him back as he vaulted the bar and kept pushing until Grillby’s back hit the wall. It happened so fast that Grillby didn’t realize he was actually in trouble until it was too late. One second Papyrus’ face filled his entire vision, the next there was a flash and a sharp bone was embedded into the wall right beside his face, its sharp tip having grazed his cheek.

“LISTEN CLOSELY, GRILLBY. NOT EVEN IF YOU WERE THE LAST MONSTER IN THE UNDERGROUND! GOT IT?!” Papyrus all but screamed against his ear, making him wince. “THIS IS THE ONLY WARNING I’M GIVING YOU. SO MUCH AS LOOK AT ME IN A STRANGE WAY AGAIN AND I WILL HAVE YOUR BALLS REMOVED, CAPICHE?!”

Grillby’s flames shrunk as he felt another bone construct press between his legs. He nodded jerkily, despite how fucking turned on he was in that particular moment. Still, no amount of mind blowing sex was worth dying for. Grillby remained still as Papyrus slowly backed away, the bone constructs disappearing into wisps of magic. He gave him the dirtiest look Grillby had ever seen on a monster before turning around and jumping the counter.

In a single fluid motion, Papyrus scooped Sans up under his arm and carried him toward the still open door, his boots leaving footprints in the snow that covered his hardwood floor.

Grillby glanced at Sans and saw that one of his eyes was open. The short skeleton pointed at him.

“See ya tomorrow, Grillbz,” he called before Papyrus carried him over the threshold. “Looking forward to it!”

Grillby blinked as the pair disappeared into Snowdin. It took a moment for what just happened to sink in. Big Mouth Fred slowly stood from his table with a chuckle and walked out quietly, leaving Grillby alone to contemplate the repercussions of his failed attempt at seduction.

Shit.

 

~~~

 

“SANS! WOULD YOU TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY FOR ONCE IN YOUR GODDAMN LIFE!”

Sans didn’t mean to piss off his brother. It was just hard to concentrate after five shots of Grillby’s famous fire whiskey and less than three total hours of sleep in the last twenty four hours. His nap didn’t even work. He got about two minutes in before he woke up just in time to see Grillby’s lame ass attempt to get into his brother’s pants.

Of course it failed.

Papyrus “The Great Virgin” wasn’t about to get laid any time soon. It wasn’t like Sans cared. Honestly, the whole thing amused the fuck out of him. Well, right now, everything amused the fuck out of him, and his brother was definitely not in the mood for fuckery.

“Come on, boss.” Sans sidestepped his brother’s attack, uniform bones shooting past him fast enough to make his jacket float in the air. “Give me a break.”

“I WILL NOT GIVE YOU A BREAK! YOU’VE HAD PLENTY ALREADY!”

“Okay, okay.” Sans raised his hands, grinning broadly. “Bear with me here. I may be a tiny bit drunk…” He ducked an overhead attack, then jumped another that shot up from the ground. “But all these _shots_ you’re dishing out on me…well, they’re doing horrible things to my liver.”

“YOU DON’T HAVE A LIVER, SANS!”

“Not with that attitude.”

“THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE ANY SENSE!” Papyrus snarled in frustration and launched his strongest normal attack.

Large bones that gradually got larger came hurtling his way. The attack took up the entirety of the small marsh in Waterfall where they stood, a softly glowing lake beside them.

“Oh, come on. I hate to _wine_ but…” Sans waited till the bones nearly grazed him before teleporting behind Papyrus. “…I feel a little _punch drunk_ from all these personal and uncalled for attacks you’re hitting me with.”

“NYAH! I HAVEN’T HIT YOU ONCE! WILL YOU JUST STOP AND TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY! FIGHT BACK!” Papyrus spun around, stamping the ground with his foot.

“I am sooooooo taking this seriously,” Sans said in the most convincing tone he could muster, unable to stop his grin from twitching. “I am on _tap_ for your concerns.”

“THAT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE EITHER! YOU’RE SO DRUNK YOU CAN’T EVEN PUN PROPERLY!”

Sans shrugged. “Oh well. But hey, at least you’re sober enough for the both of us. You got this.”

Papyrus summoned a blaster.

Well, shit.

Sans sobered up real quick, knowing all too well how serious Papyrus must be if he was bringing that out. True, it was pathetically easy to dodge. It was his own attack after all. He knew all the angles it could fire, knew its damage output, and also knew Papyrus could only do so much with it currently.

Still, when it came to that attack…

Sans didn’t dare underestimate.

He teleported two feet to the right as it fired, the blast burning a hole deep into the ground. Finally, he summoned his own magic. Papyrus barely had time to blink before his soul turned blue and Sans threw him over the lake. He held him over the surface for a second, smirking wickedly before he let him go. Papyrus plunged into the lake with a large splash and Sans broke into hysterical laughter.

“Oh, come on, boss! Don’t be a _wet_ blanket.” Sans walked over to the edge of the lake, burying his hands into his pockets as he waited for Papyrus to surface. “Just having a little fun.”

He was greeted with nothing but silence. Sans blinked, looking for any sign of his brother. There wasn’t any.

“Aww, don’t be like that, boss,” he called out in a teasing tone, starting to feel a tiny bit worried. “I know you can swim. Undyne gave you a lesson just this morning, remember?!”

Okay, that was a low blow. But he figured Papyrus would resurface in a fury, like a pissed off shark, throwing attack after attack at him. But nothing happened. Sans was about to panic when he suddenly felt an icy chill wrap around his soul, spreading throughout his body. He looked down and noticed a bright blue light glowing through the thin fabric of his white t-shirt.

“SH-

Too late, Sans realized it was only a distraction. Just as he was reaching for his magic to counter his brother’s blue, a hand shot out of the water and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. He barely had time to yell as he was thrown face first into the lake.

Sans sunk deep, the chill of the water doing wonders for his sobriety, before he quickly surfaced, gasping for air he technically didn’t need.

At the edge of the marsh, Papyrus was pulling himself out of the water, utterly drenched. Sans was about to attempt one more lame joke for vengeance’s sake when he found himself unable to speak. His brother was bent over, pulling off the top of his battle costume, exposing his ribcage. Water ran down his brother’s bones, large droplets dripping off his ribs and sliding down his spine. Papyrus wore the most smug expression Sans has ever seen on his face, red eye-lights glinting in the darkness.

Sans wasn’t sure for how long he stared. He caught himself with his jaw hanging an inch from the water’s surface, a warmth spreading across his cheekbones.

“WHAT ARE YOU GAWKING AT, SANS!” his brother barked at him, draping his top over his shoulder. “YOU TOTALLY DESERVED THAT AND YOU KNOW IT!”

Sans shook the water out of his skull and laughed.

“Alright, you got me.”

His brother smirked and turned around, giving Sans a perfect view of his spine, glistening in the soft glow of the water, his pelvis bones just peeking out of his soaked black pants.

Shit.

No wonder Grillby wanted him…

_Wait, what?_

Sans shook his head even more vigorously, water flying everywhere.

Man, that was the last time he was ever drinking again. 

* * *

 


End file.
